The Cautionary Tale Of Carl Kenicky
by Red Witch
Summary: Ron tries to give Cyril some advice.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is off on some wild goose chase. Just some tiny rambles from my tiny little brain. I came up with…**

**The Cautionary Tale Of Carl Kenicky **

"This is the life," Pam grinned as she wore an orange two-piece bathing suit and sipped a margarita by the pool.

"Living in a mansion on Cheryl's dime?" Ray remarked. He wore a blue bathing suit and sunglasses. He was also sipping a margarita. "Definitely."

"Just chill-axing by the pool," Pam sighed. "A good way to start the weekend."

Ron was also by the pool. "Today is Tuesday."

"A long weekend," Pam grinned.

"Don't you people have work to do?" Ron asked.

Ray and Pam looked at each other and laughed. "Good one!" Ray snickered.

"Right," Ron rolled his eyes. "I forgot who I was talking to for a moment."

"Speaking of forgetting someone…" Ray noticed something.

Cyril was on the phone talking to someone. "Don't worry Lana. Of course, I'd be happy to watch AJ while you go to the doctors. No problem."

"Oh God…" Pam groaned. "Looks like Lana's suckered Cyril into babysitting again."

"He's also running errands for her," Ray said. "Watch, five will get you ten he agrees to do something else!"

Cyril blinked, not listening to Ray or Pam. "You also want me to pick up your dry cleaning. Okay. No problem."

"Did I call it or what?" Ray asked.

"If only Cyril would grow a pair of permanent balls and ditch Lana for good," Pam sighed. "Don't get me wrong. It's entertaining as Hell to watch. But…"

"Is **that** still going on?" Ron groaned. "I would have thought by now that Cyril would have realized that Lana is crazy about Sterling."

"With an emphasis on the crazy," Ray sighed as he took a drink.

"Someone needs to seriously talk some sense into Cyril," Ron remarked.

"Good luck with **that,**" Ray waved. "I've tried talking to him until I was blue in the face. It worked about as well as a dog whistle at a pet rock festival."

"Lana's not exactly good at listening either," Pam admitted. "Which is ironic considering how much she likes to lecture."

"Funny isn't it?" Ray asked.

Cyril hung up the phone. "Guys I gotta take off today. I'm sure you can hang around doing nothing without me."

"Cyril could you sit down for a minute?" Ron asked. "I just wanna talk to you."

"Sure Ron," Cyril did so. "What's up?"

"Not your sense of self respect," Pam remarked. "That's for damn sure!"

"What?" Cyril asked.

"We are getting so tired of you letting Lana push you around," Ray said.

"She doesn't push me around!" Cyril snapped.

"Please," Ray waved. "Your middle name might as well be Shopping Cart."

"Look, Cyril," Ron sighed. "Let me tell you a story about what can happen if you get too obsessed with a woman."

Cyril interrupted. "If it's about how you were with another woman and threw her over for Mallory Archer, I know that one."

"Well yeah," Ron paused.

"Granted that is a cautionary tale if there ever was one…" Cyril began.

"Well this is an even bigger one," Ron told him. "It's about a buddy of mine from way back in the old days. Carl Kenicky. He lived down the block from me while we were growing up. We practically grew up together. He was part of my crew. I mean the circle of friends I was hanging out with. Real stand-up guy. But he made the mistake of falling for a dame he shouldn't have."

"Like Cyril," Ray interjected.

"Got it in one," Ron nodded. "Helena 'Hotsy-Totsy' Tamborino."

"Let me guess," Cyril sighed. "She was some mobster's girl?"

"Not even close," Ron shook his head. "Hotsy was nowhere **near** that type. She went to our high school. Class valedictorian. Competed in debate club and got all kinds of school awards. Was on the high school dance committee and Future Stenographer's club. That sort of thing."

"Hang on," Pam spoke up. "If this Hotsy chick is as goody-goody as you're implying, why'd you call her Hotsy-Totsy?"

"It was a nickname her cousins gave her," Ron said. "See when she was two her aunt was supposed to be supervising her but wasn't. She got into some matches and accidentally burned down half of her apartment building. Nobody got hurt but the nickname sort of stuck. Especially after she uh, developed if you get my drift?"

"Oh, I get what you're saying," Pam grinned. "Big and busty huh?"

"She almost put Short Joe's Eye out," Ron remarked. "Twice."

"Yowzah," Pam smirked. "Sounds like my kind of gal."

"Almost any gal is your kind of gal," Ray pointed out.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Pam remarked.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Ron went on. "Carl was obsessed with Hotsy all through high school. But she was sweet on this rich kid named Darren. I forget his last name. I want to say Drake but I know that's not right. Anyway, she was hot for Darren and they were going together for a little while. Until she caught Darren giving Toni Esposito a hickey behind the bleachers after baseball practice."

"And that's when Carl had his chance to come up to bat," Ray guessed.

"Exactly," Ron nodded. "Hotsy wanted to teach Darren a lesson. So, she decided to go out with Carl to make him jealous. She really wanted to land a rich kid and become a society dame. There was no way a hot ticket like her was gonna settle for some kid from the Bronx. Only Carl wasn't in on the gag."

"What happened?" Cyril asked.

"Well for a while things were good," Ron shrugged. "Well for Hotsy. She led Carl around like a dog on a leash but he didn't care. But then Darren did come crawling back and Hotsy decided to throw over Carl. Only Carl wouldn't take no for an answer."

"What did he do?" Pam asked. "Did he beat the bitch?"

"No! God! No!" Ron said. "I told you, Carl was a good guy. He'd never do anything like that. Well…Not to a woman anyway. He got into a fight with Darren. Was his last name Darcut? Or Darcy? I know it began with a D…Anyway, he got into a major fight with Darren. And ended up getting his ass kicked."

"Just like Cyril and Archer," Pam remarked. Cyril glared at Pam.

"Actually no," Ron shrugged. "It was Darren's mother that kicked his ass. She was one of those overprotective types. And when she saw Carl take a swing at her baby boy…"

"This is **exactly **like Cyril and Archer," Pam snickered.

"It was also extremely embarrassing for everyone involved," Ron sighed. "See the fight happened right in the middle of the Prom. Darren's mom was a chaperone. Needless to say, Darren's reputation as an athlete and a he-man soon plummeted faster than the value of a Buick after it's been hit by a semi."

"And Carl getting beaten up by a woman didn't help his reputation either," Cyril added.

"Eh, considering she was six foot four and weighed over three hundred pounds…" Ron shrugged. "Not really. She was bigger than some of the linebackers for the Jets."

"Wow," Ray blinked.

"Here's where the story gets interesting," Ron said. "After the fight Hotsy dropped both Darren and…Dimplesberg! Darren Dimplesberg! I **knew** it began with a D! Anyway…She dropped both Darren and Carl. Darren was so embarrassed he joined the army to get away from his mother. He got stationed overseas. Met a nice Irish girl. Married her and never came back to the states. Last I heard he was working with sheep or something."

"What happened to Carl?" Cyril asked.

"Carl was desperate to win Hotsy back," Ron explained. "He knew Hotsy wanted to marry a rich guy. Carl figured if he was rich, he'd get her. That's when he decided to do some really stupid things. Like steal some hubcaps from a mobster's limo and try to sell them back to him."

"This does not end well for Carl does it?" Ray groaned.

"It did not," Ron sighed. "My point is, if you keep running after a dame that ain't really interested in you, you're gonna get shot down. In more ways than one. Twenty times in Carl's case."

"What happened to Hotsy?" Pam asked.

"She ended up getting knocked up by Fat Mike," Ron said. "They got married. And it turned out he was just as mercenary as she was. Never did like that woman. After Fat Mike got sent up the river she ran off with his brother. Last I heard she was in Vegas running a cocktail bar."

"Do you know the name of the bar?" Pam asked. Everyone looked at her. "What?"

"The bitch didn't even bother to show up to Carl's funeral," Ron sighed. "Which in my opinion was the least she could have done."

"I know Lana would come to Cyril's funeral," Pam said. "If only to make sure Cyril was actually dead. Hell, I know Archer would do that. And so would I, if I'm being honest."

"Me too," Ray nodded.

"Ron, I appreciate your concern," Cyril stood up. "But this is _nothing _like **that situation**. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick up AJ. And some dry cleaning. And apparently a few…Feminine products."

Ron shook his head after Cyril left. "Man, I thought Carl had it bad."

"You tried Ron," Ray sighed. "You tried."

"That man is going to end up with more holes than Swiss cheese," Ron sighed.

"So again," Pam asked. "What was the name of this bar Hotsy runs? What? I just want to see if the old gal still has it!"

"Someday you people are going to get it," Ron groaned.


End file.
